


This Broken Dream

by CavalierConvoy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers: Beast Machines
Genre: Breaking The Cutie, Gen, Home Invasion, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Other, Quantum Mechanics, Strained Friendships, Supply Runs, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-05-24 12:31:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6153846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The on-course <i>Lost Light</i>'s journey ended tragically, but their mission was far from over, when a metrotitan from across space and time reached through and salvaged what it could from the wreckage. Three hundred years and a universe away from what they had known, the waking sparks find themselves embroiled in another war on a planet they had left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Last One Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Parallel to [_Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun_.](http://archiveofourown.org/series/195758)

There's a place not that far from here  
Where people go when their dreams have died  
As I walk from its faceless streets  
I must be the last one alive  
Where are you, you're not with me  
Numb my mind with a fantasy  
Watching people live and die on screen

—["The Last One Alive"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U2PDLw0wvIU) by Vast, from _Music for People_

 

 _The Lost Light_ (on course)

In orbit of Ofsted XVII (Lectureworld/smartplanet™: Ethics)

One stellar cycle ago

 

The klaxon did little to drown out the carnage in the shuttle bays. Prior to, the only information available was a curt "transfer of prisoner" from Ultra Magnus.

The next order, to Artemis, had been to accompany the Maintenance crew, an odd request,until whispers reached her detail of who was orchestrating the transfer.

By then the other crew - five Decepticons, which tipped off the retired mercenary of _who_ \-  under the influence of … _something_ … attacked, killing the captain, chief medical officer, and third in command, before sweeping the corridors.

Once the noncombatants were armed and on lockdown in the Maintenance hold, Artemis took the lead, head down and optics forward.

“It was a good run,” she whispered, more to herself. Louder, to her companion, she ordered, “Red’s got security protocols at max; until Magnus says otherwise, he’s in charge. I’ll buy us some time.”

“Art,” Trailbreaker took her right shoulder, halting her advance, “they'll slaughter you."

 _Keep it together._ "They're doing that already.” Facing him, she brought her free hand to the side of his helm. “Listen to me, 'Breaker. Keep everyone you can safe. Drop the blast panels, get as many of us as you can to the shuttles. That's who you are.” Setting her shoulders, she met his optics, through his visor. “This is who I am. If I can't stop them, it's going to be you."

"Art — "

She grabbed him by the neck, pressing her brow against his. "Keep the noncombatants - keep our brothers - safe. And no matter what happens, it'll always be you and me." Drawing her fingers down his jaw, shuttering her optics with the inevitability of the situation, she hissed, "Always. And thank you."

And like that, his _conjunx_ was gone, and the Wrecker Prime took her place. "You've your orders," she barked, pulling away before drawing her sidearms. "You're the last line of defence."

He bit his bottom lip; already, his palm arrays were online and prepped hot, as the black and chrome mech rounded the corner, into the main corridor. The heavy retort of Hell, the sharper whistle of Heaven, joined the firefight.

Returning to the junction leading to the Maintenance lift, Trailbreaker took stock of the situation. Rollbar, Blades, and Pipes had erected a makeshift killzone. Leading with a shoulder to enter the fortification, the defence specialist regarded the present troops, and silently lamented. They were infantry at best, the ranking officer being Blaster, a noncombatant. Instead of voicing his grave observation, Trailbreaker granted everyone a reassuring smile, but before he could issue words of encouragement, the chief communications officer reported, without his usual jovial jive-talk, “They got Magnus.”

“This ain't going well, big guy," Rollbar growled, tossing Pipes a rifle too large for the Minibot to comfortably handle.

A hard vent, then Trailbreaker nodded. "All right, let's make this count!" he shouted, curling his fingers. "Form a bottleneck, pick them off as they come!"

"Pick them — not gonna reason with them?" Blades demanded.

"You think these guys are gonna reason?" Trailbreaker countered. "Blaster, you know what a brown note is?"

Some spunk returned to the red and yellow mech. "I invented the brown note," Blaster laughed mirthlessly. "I see where you're going, hoss!"

"Play it long and hard; keep 'em off-balance, keep 'em — "

The echo of a high-calibre rifle rumbled through the corridor. While it was not the first one since the attack started, dread filled his spark as the fraternal cracks of full metal jacket and hollow point was forever silenced.

" — keep 'em occupied." His voice quaked, but he could not lose strength now. "We need to survive this!"

"How?" Huffer cried.

"Well, throw up a forcefield and buy us some time!" Smokescreen ordered.

"Gotta time it, Smokey," Trailbreaker reminded. "Lay down cover fire; Blaster, get them off-balance. Me?" He vented hard. "Gotta do what I gotta do."

_No different than Tsiehshi. Except that I'm not keeping a spark from crashing...I'm crashing a spark._

_Primus forgive me._

Five targets. No good. Which five targets? He couldn't pinpoint individual sparks....wait.

All this fear...find the ones with no fear.

_Did you know fear them when you faced them? No, she must still be online. And she would have no fear. Wreckers don't know fear._

_Keep telling yourself that. She was afraid. It radiated off her._

_Don't worry, love; I won't tell._

He set his shoulders, listening to heavy treads approaching. Gauging their distance, he _reached_ , both physically with his right hand, but his head bowed, optics forward; and _out_ , locating the nearest approaching spark —

— and choked. Brushing a spark like that — the _pulling_ , overpowering —

 _"Wrecker up, love,"_ he imagined Art whisper on his left — always his left. _"Might be a little harder to kill, but point-one percenters die just like the rest of us. Snuff it out. Now. Stop this madness. You know it's the only way to save the rest of us. Save countless others. Make a stand. This spark is beyond redemption."_

The whispering continued, and the presence pressed forward, the treads becoming foot falls.

_"But you can't do it, can you? You want to give them a chance to stand down. You want to give them a chance to see the errors of their ways. You're hoping they're 'reasonable', like Deadlock and Artemis and every other traitor to the way. But sadly, even now, you are being deceived."_

That — _frag_! "Spark-hacker!" Trailbreaker croaked, lurching forward and slamming both palms against either side of the blast door jamb.

"A what?" Smokescreen demanded.

"Spark-hacker! Fall back!" the dark grey mech snapped. "Don't ask, just go!"

_"It takes one to recognise another, doesn't it? To think what you could have been capable of had you not hid behind your code of so-called 'ethics'. But no matter. At least you will prove to be a challenge, more so than the traitor you chose to befriend. The so-called Wrecker Prime, with a legacy nearly as far-reaching as Deadlock. And like him, like all those who cross the way, they will fall. One. Single. Shot. Or longer, if we shall choose."_

"Fall back!" Trailbreaker repeated, fighting the invisible, _pulling_ tendrils. "Blaster, Plan's not working; fall back and refortify in Engineering!"

"Not gonna leave you without backup," Smokescreen snapped, priming his twin pistols. To Blades, he ordered, "Do what he says; drop the blast shield if they get past us!"

Blades huffed. "You shouldn't have to be — "

"I'm only good enough to buy time," Trailbreaker reminded. "Lock down Maintenance and do what it takes to get to the shuttles! Evacuate everyone possible, Blades — please!"

_"If you insist on playing this game, then, by all means, let us play: relent, and your death will be quick, painless; or resist, and you prolong your suffering. Choose."_

_They're not falling back!_ Turning his head, Trailbreaker focused on Smokescreen; of them all within this corridor, he served with him the longest. _"Disengage and fall back!"_ he roared, exerting will into the order. _"They get through us, it's over!"_

Smokescreen...hesitated, confused as to what he had just experienced. Blaster took the lead with the others; whether he sensed the _push_ or accepted Trailbreaker's grab for command, it wasn't important. "You heard him — let's move!" the communications leader waved his hand, leading the others into the next corridor.

"Teebs, we should go — " Smokescreen whispered.

"Then go!" Trailbreaker snapped. "Please, for the love of Primus, go with — "

That hesitation cost them.

His forcefield was impenetrable from physical attacks, but the intruder had already made the target lock on his spark. The feedback looped back onto Trailbreaker, as though someone had blasted him in the chest with a canon, sending him reeling back from the entry way.

Gasping, coughing, pushing himself back onto his hands and knees, Trailbreaker attempted to regain his footing, only to have a heavy foot crash down on his head, hard enough for pain to flare across his vision before his visor shattered. A splatter of smelted metal splashed onto his arm, and he cried out as despair took hold.

"Keep that one alive, Helex," the spark-hacker rumbled, "for as long as he can witness his comrade's destruction. Tesarus, follow the others; Kaon and Vos are on their way once they clean up the mess we left."

His vision flickering and out of focus, Trailbreaker fought the impossibly strong hold, bringing up his hand and _reaching_ out to the one standing on his head — _Helex._

"I don't think so," the large Decepticon snarled, pressing the muzzle of a large calibre pistol against the back of Trailbreaker's hand and firing it, shattering the palm array.

HUD warnings screamed, but physical agony blocked out all semblance of sanity as the large Autobot screamed.

"I said keep him alive, Helex!" the first mech reminded amid the gunfire. Now Trailbreaker could make out — barely — the one who _pushed_ back, a violet and pewter mech, as large as Rollbar, his face covered by a mask of the Decepticon insignia. He had Smokescreen in an iron hold, forcing the Praxian on his knees. _"Alt mode,_ " he ordered, the power radiating, " _Now._ "

"Smokey!" Trailbreaker wrested his other arm free from underneath himself; at first the believed a reprieve as Helex's foot lifted from his neck, only to have it crash down on his remaining hand, before the monstrous 'Con knelt, resuming pressure on his head. "Stay with me, buddy!" _Please, Primus, let me save just one person, please!_

Smokescreen was venting hard, his optics frantic as Tarn grabbed his neck and repeated the order.

Trailbreaker, despite the pain, mustered a smile — or tried to. "It's gonna be all right, buddy..." he stammered. "It's...look at me, stay with me, Smokey...."

The screaming started in the next room. Screaming...so much screaming...screams he recognised, screams that should never have been heard... _why_...?

"Your friend could have saved you," Tarn purred by Smokescreen's audio receptor; another massive presence was stalking behind Trailbreaker, heralding sickening impacts splattering fluid and metal. "He could have saved you all. And yet he won't. He would say he can't, but in truth, he won't. Do you know why he won't save you? Because he holds to an unrealistic view of ethics. He believes in giving the enemy a chance to surrender. But this is what happens when your enemies are given said chance: everything crashes down around you. And now, because he hesitated, because he couldn't take the proverbial shot, he will watch. He will be the last. Once more, _revert to alt mode. Now._ "

"It's gonna be all right, Smokey," Trailbreaker choked as his friend dropped into vehicle mode, a forced transformation that bordered sounding painful. "We'll get through this...we'll get through this — "

Drilling against metal, into protoform, and Smokescreen's screaming, drowned out his attempts at encouragement as energon splattered across the hold.

Helex's knee ground into Trailbreaker's neck, forcing the smaller mech to turn his head to face what was happening to the Praxian, just as Tarn pulled back the drill and reached into the hole he had made in Smokescreen's bonnet. Wet, gurgling sounds escaped the blue and red speedster's vocal processor.

"Smokey, please, Smokescreen! Listen to me, please...oh, Primus, I'm sorry...I'm sorry, Smokey...I'm sorry...."

It...hurt. Everything. Least was the physical, even his ruined hand. Physical was easy to deal with. Physical had a cause that could be handled. Physical had an end.

Forced to watch the barbaric surgery on his friend...that was too much. He had lost semblance of speech, and now sobbed freely.

 _"You could stop his pain,"_ Tarn reminded. _"Quite easily. The same way you tried with me. But it will be much easier to help them."_ Resuming his normal tone, Tarn slowly removed the transformation cog from Smokescreen's shell; the Praxian gagged, fluid seeping from under his engine compartment. "Helex, release his hand, but put out his optics. He needn't see to do the deed."

"I — I need to see to target!" Trailbreaker cried. "Please, no! Primus, Smokey, I'm sorry — talk to me  — "

Helex grabbed either side of Trailbreaker's head, pressing his index fingers against the sockets.

"You have other functioning senses," Tarn reminded.

Helex squeezed, cracking Trailbreaker's inner optics lenses. His hand had hurt; this...this was agonising. He gagged on curdled energon threatening to purge from his fuel intake as vision in his left optic shorted out completely.

"Helex, enough."

Helex groaned, rocking back, his weight threatening to crack Trailbreaker's spinal strut. "Dammit."

"Now, we cannot break him in one go," Tarn reminded. "This one needs to fall all the way before we can grant him release."

Trailbreaker couldn't focus. "Please...no more...."

"But that is entirely up to you," Tarn countered, stroking Smokescreen's roof before unsheathing his sidearm. "Put him out of his misery. A simple task for one as talented as you. Put him out of his misery or we prolong his agony."

"Tra...tra...." Smokescreen stuttered amid his pained gasps.

"I can't! Please, we did nothing to you! Leave us be! Please!"

"And there's that contraction again. 'Can't'. Cannot. The truth is you will not, citing the ethics of it. A shame."  

The shot — through the speedster's roof, where his head in bipedal mode would be — jumped the prone mech. He thrashed against Helex's weight. "No! Please! Primus, don't — "

"Tra...tra...."

"You shouldn't fret," Tarn purred. "It was a grazing shot. Though his coordination would never be the same again. What was it you called that again, Helex?"

"Shotgun lobotomy," Helex answered, practised, as routine.

"Yes, vulgar, yet appropriate. Now," Tarn continued, "my next shot? I think I will focus fire on the cortex...that should destroy recognition and memory blocks, I believe — "

"Primus, please, don't. No more," Trailbreaker gasped, his remaining optic darting between Tarn and Smokescreen.

"Tra...tra...."

"You could end this, Trailbreaker," Tarn reminded. "You could take away their pain. You could save them from the torment."

"I wouldn't like that," Helex countered.

"This has nothing to do with what you like, Helex," Tarn snapped. "We will discuss your interruption after we finish here. For now," another shot rang out. He had fired into the first gunshot hole. This time, Smokescreen did not cry out, but instead gurgled, choking. "For now, we see just how many times an Autobot can be shot in the head before he succumbs — Helex, take out an audio receptor this time. I wish for him to see what we're doing."

"What? Please, what — "

Helex grabbed hold of the plating of Trailbreaker's right arm and ripped upward, stripping the metal shard from the exostructure, before jamming it between the seams of his helm. Static and pain arced into his brain, but now he was too horrified, too shocked to scream.

"Please, by all means, keep trying to resist," Tarn invited, his voice now hollow and far away under a high-pitched buzz. "We leave you a quivering, unresponsive shell, and your friends as well, much like — Smokescreen? Did I remember his name? Or, you can help them. Save them the suffering, end it for them. This is more than generous, Trailbreaker. I do not extend this offer to many of our targets."

His chest wracked with sobs as Trailbreaker flailed his arm. Physical pain...that could be ignored in a crisis like this. Smokescreen's distress was overpowering, primal, pleading for release.

"Tra...tra...tra...."

"I think he comprehends the scenario," Tarn mused. "Even damaged beyond hope, he knows you're his only chance to end this game for him." A pause. "You remember how, of course. You've done this before."

 _Wait...how...?_ Trailbreaker flipped through his memory...of recent, a desperate — and successful — attempt to save Kup's spark from detonating, thus preventing a system-wide chain of events. But that never got past Ultra Magnus's desk with the rumbling of neo-Functionism —

 _"You're trying to escape,"_ Tarn projected. _"If I must, I will strip every panel away from your friend's shell until you play our game. And then I will move to the next, dragging you with me. And while we leave his suffering spark to evaporate painfully away, we will begin anew to the next."_ Normal tone resuming, he appended, “but try to turn it into yourself, and everyone will suffer. Or, you will bring them release. It will be your choice.”

"Tra...tra...tra...."

"Smokey?" Trailbreaker's voice cracked. "Smokey, can you hear me?"

"Tra...tra...."

Reaching out was never an issue; it was easier to do when sober, but emotions affected him more. Putting some spark into contact, a pat on the shoulder or an embrace, as for encouragement or compassion, anyone could do it. At least, he had led himself to believe. But reaching out without contact....he did it once before, to save Kup.

_And before...a long time ago..._

"Smokey, I'm here...not gonna leave you, buddy," he consoled. As though connecting to a server, Smokescreen's emotions — _pain | confusion | fear | dread_ — flooded in, amplifying his own to the sensation of drowning. _"It's okay, buddy...I got you. I'm not gonna let you go...I'm not gonna leave you...."_

He had difficulty maintaining pressure of the field with the agony burning from both his own wounds and the transmitted pain. He tried to emote _peace | comfort | rest_ but his own dread leaked in. And then...nothing. A metallic snap, more felt than heard, and...nothing.

The nothingness was worse than the dread. "I'm sorry, Smokey," he sobbed. "I'm so sorry...."

Helex stared at his commanding officer, awaiting the order to put his captive out of commission.

Instead, "Tesarus," Tarn ordered, "bring in the next Autobot."

 


	2. Before i'll Give In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temptation is too great to risk losing the upper hand, and Silverbolt agrees to send a two-mech scout and scavenge mission to the derelict _Lost Light_. Botanica, charged with keeping Pantera's capricious warrior Blancwulf on task, regrets coming along, doubly so when Skyfire, now freed from the generator but speaking cryptically, joins them.

Who's to say how we choose the way we want to go  
Maybe even possible to reborn in different shapes  
It's all a question mark printed in my head  
[—"Before I'll Give In"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kLpnHF9NL9I) by Colony 5, from _Lifeline_

The _Lost Light_ wreckage  
Overlooking Iacon Harbour  
Now

Inuarai was better suited for the rocky terrain of the cliff, but, as the resident demolition expert after Rattrap, she opted to stay with the others to maintain the base's perimeter. While Silverbolt vetoed Nightscream from accompanying Blancwulf in her exploration, Botanica volunteered in his stead. The argument was compelling enough not to let it pass: medical supplies, first and foremost, would prove beneficial, regardless of the differences between protoform and technorganic-based shells.

Avoiding the Vehicon patrols were easy enough; Blancwulf and Inaurai had enough practice skulking through rubble and shadows to keep from visual detection long before the return to Cybertron. Also a bonus is that Bontanica was used to acting on solo missions; while Blancwulf took the high ground, the elder Maximal had her own means travelling undetected, utilising cracks and crevices in the rock, much too small for the other Maximals to slip through. By the time the wolf reached the cliff edge, Botanica had already broke through, creating footholds in the steep, treacherous face.

Keeping her belly close to the rock, the white wolf slipped downward, catching enough of the step to move to the next, before landing on the ledge in the shadow of the derelict ship; above, automated patrols were little threat to the two scouts. Without a word, they entered through the hull breach. Although Botanica remained in her plant form, Blancwulf reverted to bipedal, unsheathing one of her glaives. Extending it, she pointed the bladed end to the emergency lights, dim but functioning. "That's a good sign," she whispered. "If we can get to a terminal, I may be able to pinpoint a map of the ship."

Botanica bristled, shutting her optics. After a hard vent, the taller Maximal nodded. "Silverbolt was not exaggerating," she muttered, more to herself.

"Suck it up, buttercup; at least we didn't know them," Blancwulf growled. "Leave them be, and after this whole brouhaha blows over, Big Bot can give 'em last rites or whatever. Now, we gotta think about us."

"I do not need you to lecture me," Botanica warned.

"You didn't have to come along," Blancwulf countered.

"Oh, how could I forget? You were in the Beast Wars." Botanica tipped one of her hands towards the ceiling before gliding between the fallen Autobots.

"Yeah, and one of only three to survive without the Transmetal mutation, to boot." The white and black Maximal pressed forward, rounding a yellow and blue speedster shell en route to the corridor. "Speaking of surviving, Nightscream was right: whoever did this did a number on the crew."

"They were thorough," Botanica retorted, rising on thick vines to climb onto the shell of a red and yellow sound engine. From her vantage point, she furrowed her brow. "They were moved."

"Nightscream said 'Tera and Rattrap used one of the guys here to contain the generator breech."

"They — used — someone's shell…?"

"Well, buddy wasn't using it."

"You don't find this the least bit morbid?"

Blancwulf scoffed. "Priorities tend to shift when you're going up against the likes of Dinobot's clone and Protoform X." A pause. "Sorry, stuff that happened during the Beast Wars. You wouldn't be interested."

Botanica trilled angrily, but said nothing more of the subject.

"I'm gonna head to the bow," the wolf stated. "Likely gonna find more useful stuff on the bridge."

"Our mission was for medical supplies," Botanica reminded, shaking her head. Ejecting a biolight sprout, she lobbed it at an emergency light, shattering the lens and plunging the room in momentary darkness before the pod opened, emitting a brighter, cooler luminescence.

"That did not make the situation any better," she lamented, descending from her perch and, following the splatter of curdled energon to a sloped corridor. A hum more felt than heard vibrated the air. Leaves ruffling, she ventured further, away from the lit room —

"I wouldn't."

The plant Maximal twisted at her waist, arms out as though to grapple, to face the voice, before registering the smaller, avian biped. Not quite relaxing, she greeted coolly: "Skyfire."

"I think so." He held out his hands, studying them. "I mean, I think I figured it out." Even in the low light, the change in his colouration was noticeable: white with red trim, with white head feathers that had been once been black. Dropping his hands to his sides, he looked up at the taller Maximal, optics white with pale blue pupils. "I tried separating myself from the generator. I may have created an autonomous duplicate of myself in the process. The other one's holding the containment field in place. I'm feeling kinda weird right now. Good, but weird." He glanced around. "Wulfie's here. What is she looking for?"

"We're here to find medical supplies." Botanica straightened her stance, keeping her gaze steady on the smaller Maximal.

"Although I believe Blancwulf had other plans. What do you mean, 'created a duplicate'?"

"I left a copy of me still with the generator," Skyfire explained. "I'm — he's holding the field until we can shut down the generator for good."

"My forte," Botanica sighed, "is not within the field of quantum mechanics."

"If it were me and Rhinox, we could have figured this out by now; my strength is navigational and theoretical." Skyfire's wings drooped, then mantled, before turning towards the bow-leading corridor. "Percy's been a huge help, though. He's the one who was able to get me unstuck, for the most part."

Botanica arched a brow before following the now white and red avian. "'Percy'?"

"Sorry, Perceptor. I'm sure you're aware of the ghosting sparks, right? You met Cyclonus and Whirl already. There's more."

"I am aware of them, yes." Apprehension welled at the pit of Botanica's fuel tank as they traversed the corridor.

"Well, we shut down the generator, and it's game over for them. I'm not ready to sacrifice the possibility of regaining their sparks."

"So instead you risk losing control of the containment field and destroying our planet altogether?"

"Planet? You think too small. Anyway, in order to get to medibay, we have to get to the lower levels, but we have to bypass Engineering in doing so, because that entire area's contaminated."

"'Contaminated'?"

"Well, most of the quantum foam had been flushed, but there's still radiation. Oi, Wulfie!" Skyfire called out to the figure ahead of them.

"I thought you were stuck in the genny," Blancwulf waved a hand but did not regard the two approaching. "So signs help; there's an EMT station in each section, likely with triage sleds. We can hit those first, and, if we can figure out how to get them topside, we can hitch 'em up and return to base."

"Thus avoiding medibay altogether," Botanica observed.

"More of the advanced tech would be down there," Skyfire explained, "but I'm not willing to try expired drugs on technorganic shells."

"EMT packs should suffice," the tallest Maximal agreed, but forced.

"Glad we're at an agreement; thinking smarter, not harder." Blancwulf gave Skyfire a quick once-over. "What happened to you?"

Skyfire shrugged. "Could be anything. Quantum bleaching, for all I know. I like it better than the old colours."

"Same here." Blancwulf halted before a door, studying the lock console a metre out of reach. "Now how do they expect us to have a light-switch rave if they keep putting the controls so high?"

"I'll see if I can engage a manual override." Botanica approached the door, coiling vines underneath to gain height, just as a series of beeps emitted from the console. An LED, weak and flickering, flashed green, before the door jerked open, sticking partway.

"Okay, which one of you opened it?" Skyfire demanded.

"Not I," Botanica growled, resuming a defencive stance. Blancwulf spun on her foot, back to the larger Maximal and glaive in a thrust.

The white and red avian shook his head. "Sorry. It was a _Lost Light_ er; I just wanted to know who's hanging out with us. Percy was still in the generator room and Blaster's on the bridge, and they're the only ones I've been actively dealing with."

"As long as we know they were friendly," Blancwulf's shoulders relaxed, chambering the glaive's handle under her arm as she slipped into the room.

"I would hesitate on using the term 'friendly'," Botanica's foliage ruffled. "Do be careful, Blancwulf."

"Allies," Skyfire assured. "With the exception of Cyclonus, they're more or less Autobots. And from what I was told, it was a crew led by Ultra Magnus."

"The apex Autobot," Blancwulf added from the room's depths. "Oi, Botanica, could use some light in here."

"I see the elder didn't instill manners when she found you," the plant Maximal shook her head, ejecting another biolight sprout.

"So many ways to retort," Blancwulf muttered.

"Hey, c'mon, we're on the same side," Skyfire warned. "But speaking of 'Tera, I am worried about her."

"She seemed…disjointed…when we parted ways," Botanica observed.

Skyfire nodded, rounding a partition and crouching, wings extending out as to avoid dragging on the floor. "Aggressive, argumentative?"

"That's Mamacat in a nutshell," Blancwulf interjected.

"Pantera usually has a control about her arguments," the tallest Maximal shook her head. "No, she was…quick to anger, almost bloodthirsty."

"She used to get like that when X was involved," the lupine commented, hauling out a sled into the corridor. "But then again, the Tee-Emm-Two mutation did a number on her to begin with. We thought it settled out after the reformat."

"It wasn't just X; I have to take some responsibility for that situation too," Skyfire rubbed his chin, examining the green and white Minibot before him. "But it's not the Tee-Emm-Two that caused this one." With a harrumph, he added, "but still my responsibility. Now, fella, who are you?"

"Who are you talking to?" Botanica demanded, following Blancwulf back into the EMT station.

"Yeah, well, this is all too much to take in at once. Anyway, I'm still connected to the generator, so I'm able to communicate with the crew. This one — Ambus — was an officer. Security. He's the one who unlocked the door for you. He's been slow to wake." The avian tapped his fore talons together. "But he's sharing our concern for 'Tera."

"Why?" Blancwulf countered.

"An old friend," Skyfire stood, mantling his wings. "He knew 'Tera long before the Maximal Amnesty Act."

"Makes sense." The wolf shrugged, emptying an armload of transdermal tape into the sled. To Botanica, she explained, "You knew Mamacat was an Autobot, right?"

"That much I knew," Botanica replied, arranging the tape boxes to make room for sutures and cauterising agents. "Though I never thought of her as an overly friendly sort."

"Well, not certain you know this yet," Skyfire flipped his thumb down the corridor, "but 'Tera? Rather, Artemis? We found her shell near the bridge. She died on board this ship, three hundred years ago."

Blancwulf leaned back, brow furrowed. "Say what?"

"So either Pantera isn't who she thinks, as one needs to be online and functioning to go through the amnesty reformat," Botanica narrowed her optics, "or she's not who she says she is."

"Little more complicated than that," Skyfire warned. "Remember, we're also dealing with a ship that technically shouldn't exist with a quantum generator. A version of Artemis died here, whereas she lived in our timeline to join the Maximals. But then we come across to my responsibility in the scenario." He exhaled, shoulders slumping. "Before, I didn't know what I was doing, before I knew what we were getting into. And then the wave hit and 'Tera and I were affected. So long story short, 'Tera's likely reverted to her pre-Maximal thinking."

"Oh." Botanica vented, barely audible. Louder, she added, "Which explains the Wrecker mentality she's been carrying since we last met up."

"And if I hadn't seen her and Big Blue go after X back on prehistoric Earth, I'd be more impressed. Let's see what else we got useful in here." Blancwulf delved back into the EMT station. Botanica, with a disgruntled trill, followed suit.

The avian cocked his head to one side. "Yeah," he whispered to the fallen Minibot, "I didn't have the spark to tell them otherwise."


End file.
